


Living in the moment

by Petra



Series: The country of the heart [6]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Held Down, M/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 12:12:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/887134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petra/pseuds/Petra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only thing that compensates for a big failure is repeated little successes. (Post-2013 playoffs.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Living in the moment

**Author's Note:**

> For an anonymous prompt at [this hockey rarepair fest](http://hapakitsune.livejournal.com/280297.html): Mario Lemieux/Sidney Crosby(/Nathalie Lemieux)- after particularly bad losses, Mario and Nathalie take care of Sidney (in any/all of the ways). 
> 
> Thanks to Derry & Sage for pre- & beta-reading.

The next time Sidney hears the word "sweep" while he's not watching curling, he might have to punch someone. This does not make for a restful set of interactions with the media--as if he's going to say anything that they would find surprising, not now, not in Boston, not when he's already humiliated himself and his team enough for one conference final.

He wants to be home more than he wants to go to the airport, where he might have to deal with members of the public--the gleeful Boston public, especially--who might say the wrong word to him and then he'd make headlines.

It's much better to go back to the hotel and avoid everyone's eyes as much as he can. The concierge treats him like any other guy in a tailored suit, not too polite, not too standoffish, and the elevator has three other people in it, none of whom acknowledge each other. Sometimes city life is sterile; sometimes sterility is a blessing.

Sidney doesn't see anyone else on the floor--some of the guys are probably getting drunk, some of them are probably asleep already, dealing in the best ways they know how. He goes into his room and wonders whether he'll be able to sleep.

Three minutes after he arrives, he texts Mario and Nathalie. They write back with their room number and _The kids are asleep next door_.

Some show they put on for the kids, this time. Sidney was supposed to be better than this. Everyone was.

The hall is still clear when Sidney walks down it, goes around two of the corners, and taps on their door. Mario lets him in and, once the door is closed, hugs him. That's worse than the media hounding him and trying to get him to say something bad about his team or his opponents. Sidney says, "Sorry," into his shoulder. He wants to go back out into the hallway and tell Mario not to hug him until he deserves it. He would, except Mario smells right in a way that makes it tolerable that they're in fucking Boston in some hotel, and Nathalie has her arms around both of them a second later, like she expects Sidney to bolt.

"You can't win them all," Mario says, and he'd know.

He also knows how much it sucks to fail, and fail, and fail, and fail again.

"Is it all right if I stay?" Sidney asks. "Just for a while?"

"There's a change of clothes for you in my bag," Mario says.

"And a toothbrush." Nathalie tucks her fingers into his waistband. "It's not a good night to lie around and watch the highlights."

"Fuck, no," Sidney says. "I just want to get something right, and I'm not sure I can, not even with you."

Mario loosens Sidney's tie with practiced fingers. "You can give it a try. I'm not having the best night, either, so if things don't go perfectly, you can always blame me."

"You'll both be fine," Nathalie says, but there's an edge in her voice that means she's saying it because she wants it to be true, not because she already believes it. "Come to bed."

"Sorry," Sidney says again, and again, every time he moves a little bit wrong, until Mario sighs against his neck above his collar, the damp heat of his breath making Sidney shiver.

"You can stop now."

The worst thing to say when he's been apologizing too much is also the knee-jerk response. "Sorry," Sidney says, and winces as soon as he hears the word. "I just--I don't know. I should go back to my room and sleep."

"Do you want to?" Mario asks.

"Well, no, but--" Sidney doesn't get to finish the sentence. Landing on a hotel bed with Mario on top of him is an effective end to any conversation, and it's more comfortable than it has any right to be. At least they want him, no matter how much of a failure he's been.

"That's better," Nathalie says, and he can hear her smile.

It is, but Sidney's not sure how much better it can be for her, since there's nothing she can see and they're not actually doing much beyond kissing. Sidney taps Mario's thigh twice, and he holds himself up enough so Sidney can get a breath. "You're staying," Mario says, not even slightly a question.

It's been easier to say, "Yes" to that, in the times when it's been a question, since they started planning ahead, since everyone started expecting Sidney to have coffee with Mario first thing in the morning more often than not--or at least to come out of his room looking showered and tidy, often with a cup of coffee. Whether or not most people believe them, there have only been a few awkward questions.

That kind of easy time together, just talking or just kissing, is for days when everything hasn't gone to hell. Without Mario holding him down, part of him wants to leave again and spare them the trouble of putting up with him.

"If you can find something for me to do, I guess," Sidney says, which is its own kind of challenge.

"Two things." Nathalie reaches down and pats his cheek. "First, shave."

"It's not that bad," Sidney says, covering his face defensively. Playoff facial hair is not his favorite tradition, but he's not going to try to fight it when it might be lucky. Besides, it's good for team solidarity.

Mario winces. "It's not worth keeping--unless you have your heart set on it."

"No, I was planning on it."

"Oh, thank God." Nathalie sounds much too happy about the prospect, the way she has every time it's been an issue. "And then when you're not going to give me beard burn from hell--"

"It's really not that bad at all," Sidney objects.

She shakes her head, looking a little bit sad, but it's probably a joke. Then again, she's tired too. Everyone is. "Maybe you don't mind a mustache on your inner thighs. Let me know if you give it a try."

Sidney tries to get out from under Mario as quickly as he can. Fortunately, it's not much of a struggle, and Sidney doesn't quite fall off the bed before he gets to his feet. He would do much more for Nathalie than shave off a mustache he doesn't like much. "I'm going, I'm going. Can I borrow your razor?"

"It's in the bathroom," Mario says, and they're both laughing at Sidney.

Someday, Sidney might decide to argue the point and try to prove to Nathalie that mustaches aren't that bad if the people who own them are careful. For today, it's easier to get rid of it than it would be to have to look at his reflection every day and remember the losses.

Mario and Nathalie are in bed when he comes out of the bathroom, their arms around each other, kissing like they forgot he was there--which he's sure they didn't, since the razor isn't quiet.

"Oh, hi, Sidney," Nathalie says like she hasn't seen him in weeks. "Funny, I almost didn't recognize you." She pats the bed on her side.

He shakes his head at her, trying not to smile at the terrible joke. "Good to see you, too."

Nathalie unfastens his pants when he's close enough. It's easier to shave shirtless, since pieces of hair tend to get everywhere otherwise, and then wipe off. "Next year you should start a new tradition," she says. "Something a little less unsightly."

"Can you have a new tradition?" Sidney asks, mostly for the sake of argument, while he's getting out of his pants and stepping on the toes of his socks in turn to pull them off. New traditions start all the time, but they don't usually take the place of old ones without a struggle. 

"You could set a trend," Mario suggests, with a smile that says he knows how unlikely that is. "If it was appealing enough, anyway."

"We'll think of something." Nathalie settles back into Mario's arms to make room and holds the covers up for Sidney. "Playoff scarf knitting. Playoff leg shaving."

Sidney says, "No thanks," and kisses her before she can think of anything worse.

She feels closer than she has in a while, possibly because of the mustache, possibly because he's focused on her and there's nothing else in the immediate future that needs his attention. The past is right there, waiting for him to try to examine it. It will have to wait longer, because he's busy, and Nathalie hugs him tightly.

Not tightly enough for him to forget everything that's gone wrong.

He's trying to be so busy the thoughts go away, but he breaks off the kiss instead. "Sorry."

Nathalie runs her finger over his eyebrows and tries to smooth out the line between them with her thumb. It feels good, but it doesn't exactly work. "What are you sorry for now?"

Sidney shrugs. "More of the same thing."

"Oh, is it time for the next step already?" Nathalie strokes his cheek. "I thought we'd have a break from the apologizing first."

"That was optimistic," Mario says. "Come here, Sid." He lets go of Nathalie and makes some space in between them.

There is no graceful way to navigate a bed with three people in it, but at least they're used to each other. Sidney has to bite his lip to stop himself from saying "Sorry" one more time before he settles down, leaning against Mario. "Better?"

"I'm getting there. Are you?"

Despite the kisses and the warmth of their bodies, Sidney's head is still half on the game, the games, the whole string of colossal failures. "Not really," he admits.

Nathalie kisses the back of his neck. "We can make you a drink and send you back to your room to sulk."

Drinking alone in the dark sounds like no fun at all. It might be what the defeats call for in some people's heads, but Sidney's never been that much of a loner. "So you wanted me to shave for nothing?"

"Not nothing." Mario kisses him, and it lasts almost long enough for Sidney to relax into it. "You need to pay attention to what's happening now, not what happened then, or you'll make the same mistakes."

"Whatever they were." Sidney has a list from the first three games already, and he's not going to recite it now.

Mario sighs. "Failure to work together as a team was the biggest problem, and you couldn't fix that by yourself--for obvious reasons."

"Still."

"I want to get to sleep before next season," Nathalie says. "If you're going to pick everything apart before you're willing to do anything else, take Mario back to your room and leave me alone."

Mario sighs. "No, I'd rather stay here."

There have been nights when staying up until dawn talking with Mario was the best idea in the world. This is not one of them. "Sorry, I'm done," Sidney says, and turns on his back so he can smile at her, or try to, anyway.

"I'll believe that when I see it." Nathalie's answering smile is a little bit better than Sidney's, but not great. She purses her lips for a moment, then asks Mario, "Do you think your young man needs another lesson on teamwork?"

"No," Sidney says, both because it makes him want to laugh when she calls him that, and because the last thing he wants is another serious discussion. "Together Everyone Achieves More, I got it, I'm fine."

"Not that kind of lesson, anyway," Mario says. "I'm having enough trouble keeping my mind off of the games without slogans."

"Sorry," Sidney says.

Nathalie groans. "Stop that. You owe me an orgasm for every time you've said 'Sorry' tonight."

That's a simpler goal to achieve than not saying the word when he keeps thinking it or trying not to think about everything he doesn't want to consider. It's a relief to have something to aim for, especially something he knows he can manage. Looking forward to it is much better than looking back. "Okay, I can do that, but I don't remember how many times that is."

"Then you'll have to make me lose count, won't you?"

Sidney takes a deep breath. "I'll do my best. But--this is a teamwork thing, too, right?"

"I've got your back," Mario says, not quite laughing.

"I'll let you know if I need you to take a shift," Sidney says.

He likes almost everything about the times Nathalie decides she's going to sit on his face and hold him there for a while--the way she tastes, the way she sounds, the way she moves with him and against him so he knows he's getting it right--but tonight the best part is a combination of all of those factors and the concentration it takes to give her what she needs. There's no space in his head for anything but the moment, the moans she muffles by kissing Mario, and the tension that grows in her thighs until she comes.

"Not a bad start." She tugs on his hair and sits up enough to let him talk, but he doesn't have anything important to say.

At least he doesn't need to apologize again. "I can keep going," he offers, wondering what she's waiting for. The longer they're stopped for, the more he has to work to keep his thoughts where they should be, on the complex flavor of her and the things she needs from him.

Mario pats Sidney's thigh. "We've got all night."

"Yes, but I know I said it a lot more than once." It's a short flight home, not nearly enough for them to catch up on sleep, and there will be more media tomorrow. Thinking about talking to the media and all the terrible questions he'll have to answer all over again makes Sidney frown.

"I can take a rain check," Nathalie says, her fingers light on his forehead.

He makes himself smile at her. "If you want to, or--really, I'm fine."

"Fine and a million miles away."

"Only right now." Sidney kisses her thigh. "I was right with you, a minute ago. I just--well, you know."

"You just need some help keeping your head in the game?" Mario shifts and the bed springs creak. 

Sidney absolutely doesn't say, "Yes, sorry." He says, "Yes, please," which is much better.

He has to fight not to thrust up into Mario's mouth immediately--there are things on his mind, there are frustrations in the world, and then there is what he needs to be doing, the slick heat he wants more of, as much as he can get. Nathalie is sighing, making small, hungry noises, and trying to keep herself quiet. Sidney makes a frustrated noise, another stifled apology, and reaches blindly for Mario's hands. 

When their fingers touch, Sidney tugs Mario's hands onto his hips, asking for a little help. He doesn't want this to be over too soon. Nathalie probably won't follow through on the letter of her promise, but if they manage the spirit, that would be great.

This time when he gets a little lost, it's in the push and pull of their bodies, Nathalie rocking agonizingly slowly against his tongue and shivering through another orgasm, the weight and strength of Mario's hands counteracting the fierce need to take his mouth as hard as possible. It's all he can do to give both of them what they want. The world narrows down to the places they're touching each other and the urgency in every movement. He can't go anywhere, wouldn't if he could, and every time he tries to move in some instinctive way, arching up or craning his neck, they're right there, anchoring him in place. All he can think of is them and wanting more of them.

Sidney holds out as long as he can--he's sure he apologized more than three times, or maybe four, he was a little distracted--but he can't last long for more. He makes some nameless sound when he tries to let them know, and isn't certain it's out loud. Nathalie's thighs are pressed against his ears, trapping any sound and all of his thoughts in his head, and he wouldn't let her hips go if he could figure out how to move his hands. Mario speeds up at just the right moment, so it's possible he heard, or Sidney's just that obviously on the edge. For a few long seconds, Sidney feels safe from the past and the future, hanging in the instant and coming hard, exactly the way they want him to.

"There," Nathalie says, and he's vaguely aware that she's stroking his hair, kneeling up. "That sounded like fun." 

Mario kisses Sidney's hip, his lips wet. "Are you up for another shift?"

"Mm," he says, which is about as close as he can get to a word.

Nathalie laughs and gets off of him, patting his cheek. "Get some sleep."

Sidney turns his face so he can kiss her hand, but anything else sounds like too much work. Exhaustion is closing in. It's not quite as good as distraction for keeping his mind off of things he can't change, but it should be enough until morning. "You okay?" he asks.

"Yes," Mario says. "And--don't you dare apologize--we can take care of each other."

He means to stay awake, if only to watch them. The bed is too warm, the pillow is too soft, and the way they move together makes the mattress rock in ways that should be uncomfortable, and might be, if they didn't remind him with every shift that he's not alone. The morning will come too soon, but he won't have to deal with the questions about what he did and what he shouldn't have done by himself.


End file.
